Therianthropy
by B-Rated
Summary: Desperation leads to adventure by means of mysteriously vauge doctors and medical trials. Ron and Harry sell themselves to science for rent money, while Draco does it for money in general. Ron/Harry Ron/Draco Harry/Draco
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my new story and get ready for one insanely strange ride. Thanks to purplerawr for beta-ing and being gernerally awesome. For those that don't know what therianthropy is I ask you not to look it up, it's more suspenseful if you don't know.

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><p>"So what do you think?" Ron asked.<p>

"Medical experiments," Harry pointed out in a argumentative tone, "Who knows what they'll have us doing."

"But we'll be saving lives," Ron replied positively before adding a serious, "and we need to pay rent."

Harry sighed and stood up. He walked around the table to lean against the counter, "Alright then. What's the number?"

Ron handed him the ad.

"This says we have to live there a year," Harry objected.

"But look how much it pays," Ron argued, "And they'll cover current housing costs."

"Ron, that just means they're desperate," Harry read further.

"Well yeah, who wants to be in an experiment for a whole year?"

"Exactly, why are we even considering this?"

"We need money," Ron stated, "Unless you've managed to squeeze a third job into your schedule and have made any headway on those school loans. Because, I sure haven't."

Harry looked down in defeat. "We'll have to quit work, they won't hold positions for a year."

"So we'll be back to where we were when we graduated, but with all our debt paid off," Ron said.

Harry nodded in agreement, "Selling my body to science."

"Just for a year."

"We've reached a new low."

"Desperation, wear it with pride."

Harry picked up the phone, "Your idea, you call." He handed it and the paper back to Ron. "I can't imagine what kind of experiment needs a whole year…" he mumbled walking into the other room. "If you get me killed, Ginny will maim you!"

Ron was waiting for someone to pick up the line when Harry popped back into the kitchen, "Talking of which, what are you going to tell your family?"

Ron waved him off as the conversation with a receptionist began.

Harry walked back out of the room. He crossed the living room and started down the hall to his bedroom.

He and Ron had been living together since boarding school where they first met. They were roommates then and still roommates now, nearly twelve years later. They went to boarding school together, went on to graduate school together, all to apply to work for an agency that then took a nose dive. Dreams shattered and hopes lost they were forced to split rent, scrounge for utilities, and buying off brand groceries.

It just wasn't enough.

Ron stopped at his door, drumming his fingers against the frame, "We have interviews tomorrow at ten."

"Bloody fantastic," Harry remarked, "Did they mention what this experiment is for?"

"No," Ron stated, "Maybe they'll tell us tomorrow." He shrugged and continued down the hall to his room.

"Hey, did you ask Hermione?" Harry shouted, "Maybe she would know more about this."

"She said she'd never heard of anything like it," Ron yelled back.

"That's saying something isn't it? If she doesn't know," Harry objected.

"Stop, worrying. We'll ask them stuff tomorrow!"

"Ron Weasley, you'll be the death of me," Harry collapsed onto his bed.

The following morning Ron drove them to the given address using the given directions. Harry looked out his window at the building, "Doesn't look much like a hospital or research facility."

"No," Ron leaned low to see as well, "Maybe they send the samples out and this is just the office." He pulled the keys from the ignition and got out of the car.

Harry unbuckled his seat belt and followed him up the walk. "Did you call your mum?"

"I'll write her later or something," Ron dismissed and pushed the glass door open. A long hall of beige colored walls and barely used chairs greeted them.

The room was boring. Barely four feet wide, one person in one chair could easily kick the one across from them.

At the end of the hall was another door, right before it was the only occupied seat.

The man appeared to be in his twenties and had short blond hair. He was either pretending that Ron and Harry hadn't entered or too involved in his magazine to even notice. Ron walked to the other door and found it locked.

"They went to lunch," the blond finally acknowledged their existence.

"What? We had an appoint-"

"I'm not the receptionist," he looked up with bored mien.

Ron sighed and sank down in the chair across from him, "Are you here for the study as well then?"

"Yes," he turned a page.

Harry sat down in a chair next to Ron.

"What's your reason?" Ron asked.

"I hardly see why you need to know," he replied.

"Well we're broke," Ron announced.

Harry leaned over and picked up a magazine from the small table.

"That's lovely," the man said dryly. Then with a sigh he closed his reading material, "My father cut me off."

The two newcomers paused. "Oh," Ron said awkwardly. They both took a moment to fully recognize how expensive the first party looked. A lot of care clearly went into his appearance.

"My name's Ron," he held out his hand.

"Draco," he accepted it.

"I'm Harry," Harry offered. "Ron's roommate."

"Oh," he paused much like they had. Harry was suddenly self conscious. What seemed so odd about the fact him and Ron were roommates? "How long have you been… roommates?"

"Years," Ron answered. "We went to school together."

The door opened. A small woman clutching a folder to her chest barely stepped into the room, "Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco stood, tossing the magazine back onto the table.

The woman looked over at the other two, "Oh you are?"

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

"I'll let them know you're here," she backed into the other room, holding the door for Draco.

After they were gone Harry and Ron exchanged a look, "Malfoy?" The name sounded familiar though neither one could place it.

Shortly after Draco had left the woman returned, "Mr. Weasley? Harry you can come wait in the office if you want." She smiled a little flirtatiously.

"Oh um, sure," he walked behind the redhead.

"Why is it all the girls go for you?" Ron whispered over his shoulder.

Harry laughed a little.

"Here you are," she held out her hand to a room. Ron stepped in and she shut the door. She pulled up a chair to the other side of the reception desk and patted it, "Have a seat."

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"So what are you doing here?" She sat down in her own chair, leaning forward, her elbows perched on the desk's surface and chin on her hands. She had to be aware of how low cut her shirt was and how much cleavage she was revealing, and it hardly seemed unintentional.

"My roommate and I are broke," he shared a little nervously.

"Aw," she swooned and touched his hand, "What happened?"

"School loans," he stated.

"Poor thing," her thumb moved against his knuckles. "What'd you go to school for?"

"Business," Harry said, "What about you?" He pulled his hand away from hers. She was by no means awful looking, quite the opposite actually. She was very attractive. He just wasn't into the whole strangers turning into something more. He didn't know her and he really didn't want to.

"Me? I went to a trade school," she giggled and played with her hair, "You don't need a fancy degree to organize a filing cabinet."

He nodded in mock interest.

The door behind Harry opened, "We'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Malfoy." Draco was escorted across the office back to the door.

"You're up," the woman pointed to the man standing at the now open door.

Harry stood and turned to cross the office, stepping into a more official one. A large man with dark skin sat down at a large desk. "Mr. Potter?" He picked up a folder.

"Um, yes," he eyed the folder curiously. What could he possibly have in there? "You can call me Harry."

"Are you allergic to anything, Mr. Potter?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

"Do you know what this experiment is for?"

"No," he said, "The add was kind of vague."

"We're looking for a cure for a disease," he shared, "in order to do that we have to infect healthy volunteers, since the disease itself is so rare."

"Wait," Harry threw up his hands, "you're going to infect me with this thing and hope to cure it? What if you don't find a cure? Is it deadly?"

"Under monitored circumstances it won't be," he said briefly, "and I assure you the research you provide will guarantee we're closer to the cure."

Harry imagined small pox, AIDs, hospitals, sterile rooms, being sick out of his mind. "Closer, not actually having one," he pointed.

"I cannot promise you anything but it would be a great deal of help to those who have and suffer with this ailment," he continued.

"You want me to suffer with this ailment," Harry shook his head.

"Suffer is a harsh word," he corrected, "it's more along the lines of a minor disruption of everyday life. You can still have an extremely happy life with this."

"What is this thing you'll be infecting me with?" Harry demanded.

"Therianthropy," he said simply.

Harry shook his head, "What is that? I've never-"

"You'll learn in due time," he smiled. "I just need you to sign a few forms." He handed Harry the papers and a pen. "And meet me at this address for a tour of your new housing and our facilities," he handed him another slip of paper after taking the signed contract and putting it in Harry's folder.

He stood and held a hand to the door, "Have a wonderful day, Mr. Potter."

Harry stood and walked out the door being held for him. When he got to the car Ron was waiting, his eyebrows furrowed in a confused manor.

Harry took his seat and buckled his seatbelt, "Therianthropy…?"

"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron agreed, starting the car.

Not much else was said until they were home. Harry looked at the paper that had the address as well as a list of allowed items. Tooth brushes, combs, clothes, and recreational objects such as cards and books. No major electronics, no cigarettes or tobacco, no alcohol, no perfumes, no deodorant.

"Three smelly blokes in a compound together… Awesome," Ron remarked. He was reading his own paper.

"You're idea," Harry reminded and stood from the couch to retrieve a beer from the small stained fridge in the kitchen. "Last one for a year… Want one?"

"Yeah," Ron let the paper fall onto the coffee table, which consisted of cinderblocks and plywood. He sat back and propped up his feet only to have them kicked down as Harry passed on his way to the second hand chair.

He held up his bottle, "To money and desperation."

"To not working street corners," Harry added.

"To Therianthropy, whatever the hell you are," Ron finished.

"Here, here," Harry agreed.

Their bottles clinked before each took a swig.

Sometime the next afternoon, Harry pulled his suitcase from the trunk of the car and walked towards the building while Ron retrieved his duffle bag.

Draco was standing on the stoop of a completely normal looking apartment building. His elbow perched on an expensive looking suitcase with matching carrier attached to the handle. He looked up over what were presumably a pair of designer sunglasses at the two approaching, "No one's answering the bell."

Harry looked at the directory under the intercom. He pressed a button and leaned into the speaker after a voice answered, "Yes, hi. We're here for the research facility… Is this the right building?"

"Yes!" They sounded excited, "I'll buzz you in. Third floor, come on up."

"Thank you," Harry replied after the door opened.

"You just have the magic touch don't you," Draco said condescendingly, standing straight and curling his hand around the handle of his suitcase.

Harry felt a little bad at that moment. Draco probably didn't even understand how to use an intercom if it wasn't in a mansion. He shrugged and welcomed him to take the lead.

There was stairs. Not an lift, stairs. The three were forced to carry their things up them. Ron and Harry had an easy go of it, packing light, assuming there'd be some kind of laundry service. Draco on the other hand seemed to take 'clothes' as his entire wardrobe and from the looks of things he had a large wardrobe.

Several times Ron and Harry offered help but he wouldn't hear of it. Prideful with expensive tastes, they had learnt two things about him already.

When they reached the third floor landing Ron knocked on the door. The man that had interviewed Harry and Draco answered and welcomed them in. A second man, whom he introduced as his associate, that had interviewed Ron, was sitting in a chair at the base of spiral steps.

"This is where you will be staying," he announced and allowed them time to look around.

To the left of the door was a living room, to the right an entranceway to a kitchen. The carpet was white, the walls a warm yellow, and looking up was a walkway that probably lead to the bedrooms. It was small but it wasn't unbearable.

"There's three rooms, one bathroom, and a fridge freshly stocked," the associate stood. "The apartment is a controlled variable. We know what you eat, what detergent is used in your laundry, what mold spores your exposed to, there's no mold here, that was just an example." He smiled.

"Right," Ron agreed unsurely.

"The rooms are identical so there will be no territorial disputes," the man joked. Both laughed though the three newcomers didn't get it.

"You can take your things up and Kathy will be sure you've packed the appropriate items while we show you the lab downstairs," he instructed.

"Wait, someone will be going through our things?" Draco asked. He was ignored

"We'll take a blood sample then wait a few days before administering the virus," the associate went on.

Both men smiled and folded their hands behind their backs.

Harry sighed and started for the metal staircase. He could hear Draco mumble something behind him about the annoyance of stairs but kept his comment to himself.

He passed the bathroom, first on the left, followed by a bedroom, second on the left, another bedroom, first on the right, and then took the last room at the end of the hall.

It was incredibly simple. Four blue walls, one twin-size bed with white sheets and folded blue blankets. He put his suitcase by the bed and walked back out.

Draco had claimed the second room and Ron the first. Draco had apparently left behind his sunglasses and followed the redhead back down the stairs to the room where men in lab coats waited to secure their doom.

They were lead back down the three flights of stairs to a plain white metal door that opened to metal stairs. These took them down into what seemed like a basement as well as a labyrinth. The white cinderblock walls were labeled with arrows. Blue ones that said 'volunteers' and yellow ones that said 'staff.' The tour took them down the blue hallway. At the end it opened into a large room. There was three dividers to the right as well as three hospital beds. "This is the examination room," their guide shared, "When we're done with the tour we'll come back here to see the phlebotomist." He turned and continued.

"Dr. Rothburn," a woman with a clipboard called and the group lost a tour guide.

The second man made do without him. "These are your changing rooms," he extended his hand to three square rooms with medieval looking doors.

"Changing rooms?" Ron raised his hand like a child in school.

He too was ignored.

"And this is the interview room," he stopped, "Here, we'll ask you to relay any changes you've felt or discuss any concerns you may have."

"I have a concern," Ron voiced.

"Yes?" He clasped his hands together patiently.

"What is Therianthropy? What kind of symptoms can we expect? Nausea, headaches, itchy red bumps?"

"I've never know it to cause bumps," the doctor stated. He thought a moment, "It can cause heightened sense of smell, sharper sight, a sudden change in diet, increased irritability, jealousy, rage… And in most cases an increase in sexual desires, though we've never done this experiment with three members of the same sex so we'll see how things go." He waited briefly for any comments and then started back towards the first room. "Come along."

The three were mostly too shocked to respond. Ron leaned over to whisper to Harry, "Three smelly, horny blokes stuck in a compound together."

Harry laughed, "Your bloody idea."

After they gave up their blood and providing some results to simple tests they were taken back to the apartment and left to their own devices.

Harry was helping Ron unpack and refold his clothes after the redhead had helped him. "Is it just me or were the symptoms not that bad?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry stated, "It just sounds like you on a drunken holiday."

Ron laughed, "Or a betakaroten loving, bodybuilder chasing his steroids with Viagra."

Harry snorted and burst into a laughing fit. Time passed with light hearted jokes and stories the other already knew the ending too.

They looked up when there was a shy knock and cough on the door frame, "Do either of you know how to make these?" Draco held up a blue box of what appeared to be instant macaroni and cheese.

Harry set down Ron's shirt. "Here, I'll help you," he smiled kindly and took the box from him. He read the box while walking down the stairs and into the kitchen. "First let's find a pot." Harry set to searching the cupboards, making mental notes as he did so.

"Thank you," Draco popped himself up to sit on a yellow counter top, "I'm still not used to… being self sufficient."

"How long ago were you cut off?" Harry asked, filling a medium sized pot with tap water and setting it on the stove.

"Just a few weeks," Draco shared, "I've been living with a friend. They decided I overstayed my welcome."

"Tough break," Harry whistled, continuing to find the proper things he'd need.

"I really think they were using me though," Draco leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. "I'm not dumb, you know," he turned his head towards the brunette. "I graduated top of my class at a very prestigious school."

"I never thought you were," Harry smiled at the hissing water, waiting for it to boil. "I think you just got used to things being done for you and you never learned to do them yourself. It's not bad, just difficult when your lifestyle's ripped away."

"Do you have any family?" Draco asked, keeping conversation.

"My parents died when I was young," Harry shared, "My aunt and uncle took me in but we never got along very well. What about you, is it just you and your father?"

"No, my mother and her sister, my aunt, she's crazy, but she's living with us. Well was, I am no longer part of us," he said sadly.

"Did your father give you a reason for cutting you off?"

"No, but I can assume," he sighed.

Harry hummed, wondering if it was the reason he was thinking but kept his tongue quiet. Just because Draco acted slightly more feminine and appeared to care too much about his outward appearance didn't mean anything. There was lots of men in the inner city that practiced good fashion sense then went home to their wives and children.

The water came to a boil and Harry added the noodles. "Do you want to make a meal out of this?" He asked and walked to the fridge.

Draco shrugged though Harry had his back to him.

He bent low to examine the contents of the refrigerator, "That's odd…"

"What?"

"It's mostly red meat," Harry stood and opened the freezer, "Yeah, we have enough steak here to last into next year."

"Is there any fish? Smoked salmon is my favorite," Draco shared.

Harry shook his head, "No… Well we have cold cuts, how about sandwiches."

"Can I have mine on toasted rye bread with light-"

"Draco, there's salami or bologna," Harry held up the packets while kicking the fridge closed, "I'm not a short order cook."

"Sorry," he sighed and leaned forward again.

Harry tossed them onto the counter, "You could help by finding the bread."

Draco slid off the counter and turned around to open the cupboard that had been above him. A small box was sitting on the shelf, "The bread box?"

"Well done," Harry congratulated finding the plates and setting three on the counter. "Can you stir the noodles?"

Draco handed him the loaf of bread and then stepped back to the stove. He picked up the wooden spoon Harry had pulled from a drawer and did what he was asked.

"You'll be independent yet!" Harry exclaimed.

Draco smiled.

Harry gently nudged him with his elbow, "Really, look at you, stirring noodles and finding bread."

The blond rolled his eyes but laughed a little.

"Tell me some more about your crazy aunt," Harry suggested.

This opened a doorway to humorous stories he'd never heard before.

Ron finished up packing and started down the stairs, welcomed by the sound of laughter from the kitchen. Harry failed to eat a piece of cold meat by means of snorting when one of Draco's stories finished with a, "Then she wheeled the screaming brat out of the shop and went to her car."

"She is crazy," Harry chuckled.

"She was committed for years but when Father went into politics and it all went to hell," he was standing at the stove.

"You're father's in politics?" Ron asked, leaning against the counter.

Draco nodded, "Ruined the family."

"Sorry to hear that," Harry said empathetically.

"Well," he began in a new tone, "In a few days we become diseased."

"Yes," Harry threw a glance a Ron.

"Think of the money, mate," Ron smiled.

"How do you tell this is done?" Draco asked, referring to the pot.

"It probably is," Harry leaned over and turned off the stove. "Grab a plate and dig in."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Ron stood up and went towards the stuff laid out for sandwiches.

"I know, Ron," Harry sighed, "If it weren't for cheap food we'd be living on the street long ago."

Draco received his food and took a seat at the table, "So does your family know you two are… roommates?"

"Oh yeah, Mum loves Harry," Ron shared, though Harry was starting to get suspicious to Draco's suspicions. "He even had a fling with my sister once."

Yes, prove him wrong, Ron.

"Really?" Draco seemed shocked.

"Yeah but she went off to another school," Harry shared, "We're still friends though."

"I had a relationship like that," Draco stated, "They went on to med school. We lost contact after that."

Harry noted Draco's avoidance of pronouns and his assumptions came back tenfold.

"Shame," Ron supplied, "I once dated a friend. I don't quite remember why things didn't work out."

"You were fighting," Harry reminded, "constantly." They two knew they were talking about Hermione but Harry was sure they were incriminating themselves. So he went on, "You couldn't tell she was mad at you though. You're horrible with reading girls."

"Well, I don't have women throwing themselves at me everywhere I go," Ron retorted.

"It's called classic good looks, mate," Harry smiled.

"You two go on like a married couple," Draco pointed.

Harry and Ron laughed in agreement. "Yeah, we've known each other… twelve years?"

"You'd think we'd be finishing each other sentences like the twins," Ron stated.

"Twins?" Draco questioned.

"My brothers," Ron shared.

"You have brothers?" He seemed extremely interested. The assumptions were ringing in Harry's ears. Maybe Draco found Ron attractive and wanted to know if he had any gay brothers. But he preferred to take this as innocently getting to know one another.

"Lots," Harry said.

"How many?"

"Five," Ron answered, "and one sister."

"Really? I couldn't imagine that many people in one house," Draco replied.

"We all got along well enough," Ron shrugged, "Bill and Charlie, the oldest ones, they helped out a lot then were off to school soon after I was old enough to read. Fred and George, the twins, they practically raised Ginny, my younger sister, and I."

"So that explains it," Harry commented.

"Shut up," Ron retorted.

"So Ginny's younger than you?"

Ron nodded, "Yeah."

"And she dated your best friend?"

Harry smiled, "Yeah."

"That had to of been awkward," Draco said.

"Not really," Ron shrugged, "It's not like they were sleeping together."

Harry wordlessly turned to look at the wall, "How do you think they settled on this color scheme?"

"It is an obscene yellow isn't it," Draco tried to help.

"You slept with my sister?" Ron demanded.

Harry coughed, "Well yeah… What did you think we were doing when she showed up at the dorm to study and had no books?"

"I thought she was helping you study. I can't believe you deflowered my innocent little sister," he shook his head.

"Deflowered? What are you ninety?" Harry retorted, "And she was deflowered before I got to her, mate."

Ron threw his hands up over his ears, "God, stop it!"

"Just letting you know," Harry patted his shoulder.

Draco was snickering across the table. Ron let his hands fall back down, "Whatever just don't talk about your sexual conquests over my sister."

"Alright, Ron," Harry agreed, "Though there's nothing to talk about. If you want to talk sexual conquest, remember the lit professor our sophomore year. What was her name…"

"The one with huge tits?"

"Yeah her!" Harry didn't particularly like defining women that way but it fit best in this situation. "She had a thing for leather."

"You nailed the professor?"

"How else do you think I got an A in that class?" Harry joked, he actually worked his ass off but she wouldn't let him pass without begging for it. It was probably the most humiliating night of his life, but they didn't need to know that.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Damn… The best I got out of that school was a cheerleader in the tool shed," Ron sighed. Harry did know the whole of that story. It was just a snog and she was using Ron to make her ex-boyfriend jealous.

Draco smiled and shook his head looking down at his plate.

"What about you?" Ron asked suddenly.

Harry wanted to kick him. You don't ask strangers to confess that kind of thing especially suspiciously in the closet ones.

"I slept with Father's assistant once," Draco shared, "On his desk."

Ron whistled, "Really?"

Harry continued to notice the absence of pronouns.

"When he found out he hired some new bitch he knew I'd have no interest in," Draco went on.

"Tough," Ron sighed.

Harry picked up their plates and walked to the sink, "Want to learn how to wash dishes, Draco?"

"I'd prefer not to," he said.

"Some other time then," Harry agreed, "Ron can help me tonight."

Ron groaned and stood up.

"I'm going to finish unpacking," Draco announced and left the room.

Harry rinsed a plate and handed it to the redhead to be dried. "Is it just me or does he seem…"

"Gay?" Ron offered.

"Yes, thank you," Harry said sarcastically.

"You started it," Ron pointed. "If you're going to be a hypocrite-"

"I'm not a hypocrite," Harry objected.

"No? What was that a couple months ago then?"

"Hey, you're just as much to blame for that," Harry pointed.

"Yeah," he agreed. He held out his arms, "but I'm completely secure in my hypocrisy."

Harry shook his head and went back to washing dishes.

"Live and let live, free love, all that jazz," Ron mocked.

"Fuck you," Harry light heartedly splashed water towards him.

Ron laughed and tossed his towel at him, "Do your own damn dishes then."

"Fine there's only one left," Harry shrugged and put the pot into the soapy water.

"Great, I'm going to turn in early then," Ron started out of the kitchen, "I've got a certain cheerleader on the brain."

"You're disgusting!" Harry shouted.

There was no response. Harry chuckled and finished the chore before turning out the lights and retiring to his own room.

Thus ended his last day as a free man. Over the course of the next year he will be just a variable in a science experiment.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey there, we now have a chapter two! This chapter is clearly all about oral hygiene. Sex? No, it's not about that, not at all! :) Enjoy.

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><p>After a few days of nothing more than interviews to establish a control Harry, Ron, and Draco sat in the same chairs they had blood drawn in.<p>

"It's just going to be a pinch then you might feel a little dizzy," the doctor warned before rubbing his shoulder with the alcohol swab. He picked up the syringe, popping it into a sealed vile and pulling up on the plunger to fill it, flicking it to make the air bubbles rise, and then finally breaking the skin of each of the men's shoulders with the needle.

Harry cringed.

Ron hissed.

Draco yelped.

Harry blinked continuously, struggling to keep his head right. The effect was almost instantaneous. It was almost as the liquid crawled right up his arm and went into his skull.

"We'll keep you here for an hour to let the initial effects ware off," someone told him. Their voice sounded funny almost like they were talking underwater.

Harry looked over at the other two. Draco seemed completely inebriated, his head over the back of his metal chair, staring at the ceiling like there was ghosts circling above him.

Ron was leaning forward, obviously struggling with his balance. It was a good thing he was sitting Harry supposed.

As the haziness faded he tried to talk to him, "What kind of drug is this?"

"It's not a drug, it's venom," someone beside him said, writing in a folder.

"Venom?" Harry turned towards them, the slight movement making the room spin.

"It goes after the thalamus, the part of your brain that relays sensory signals," they explained turning their back to him doing something else. "It's so you can't run away during the attack."

He was a little slow but something there didn't make sense, "What?"

"The only time you'd be exposed to this is when you're under attack," something was put in his hand, "Squeeze this."

"Attacked by what?" Harry asked while they continuously gave him tests and took notes.

"Seems like you're coming down," his pulse was being taken, "Your speech has stopped slurring too."

He started to get a splitting headache. It started as a dull throb in the back of his head before completely claiming every part of his brain. He rubbed the heal of his palm against his forehead with a groan.

"There we are," the person with the folder announced happily. "You can go back upstairs now."

Harry couldn't even think about walking with the axe in the back of his head, "What? How long is this going to last?"

"The headaches usually go away after a couple days. If it's any consolation in the real world situation you'd probably be dead by now," they smiled, "Now let's get you upstairs before you pass out."

"What?" His head felt fuzzy again, his sight tunneling.

"Oops, already lost you," it sounded more like they had just dropped a fork at the dinner table.

Harry swayed and fell out of his chair. The last thing he saw was a pair of white tennis shoes.

When he woke a headache had settled behind his eyes. With a bit of effort he forced himself out of the bed, nearly dropping to the floor. At least the orderlies had the decency to but him in a bed.

Stepping into the hall he could hear noise coming from Ron's room. It sounded like he was throwing things in an angry fashion.

Harry only knew him to of had such an episode once before, during midterms. He really didn't have the energy to deal with him at the moment though. So even with pain in every step he walked down the stairs.

The next odd thing he noticed was Draco laid out on the couch, face down in the cushions. He was concerned that maybe he would asphyxiate or something. "Draco?"

There was a weak groan of a reply.

"You okay?"

Draco's head rolled towards him, "Tired." He blinked several times, squinting as though the light was painful. "Where are your glasses?"

Harry touched his face, he hadn't noticed he wasn't wearing them. The world wasn't hazy or blurry, in fact everything was better looking than usual. The mustard color of the room seemed to glow off the walls.

Draco reburied his face. Harry continued to the kitchen where he collapsed into a chair and let his forehead hit the table.

There was a thunderous sound of feet on the metal stairs. Their noisy path continued into the kitchen. Harry didn't look up, though his eyebrow twitched with every slam of a cupboard. Finally he looked up, "What's wrong with you?"

"I can't find anything in this bloody place!"

"Well stomping around like a oaf isn't going to help!" Harry shouted back.

"Shut up!" Draco's muffled voice screeched from the other room.

Harry took a deep breath, "We're all just a little on edge from the venom. What are you looking for, Ron?"

The redhead rolled his eyes and crossed his arms like a child being denied the right to a temper tantrum, "A glass."

"That cupboard," Harry pointed. He had had several chances to learn the kitchen over the past two days.

Ron sat down with his new glass of water while Harry was busy rubbing his eyes, "Where's your glasses, mate?"

"On my nightstand I think," he sighed and leaned forward on his elbows. "I don't need them."

"Why?"

"I imagine for the same reason you're throwing a fit," Harry replied. "Is there anything left in your room?"

"Hey, it's not like I can help it!" Ron said defensively.

"Stop yelling!" Draco screamed.

Harry sighed, "They said this phase wouldn't last long right?"

"God I hope it won't. I swear I could punch you and you haven't done anything," Ron groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Well thanks for not doing that," Harry replied. He looked off towards the living room, "I suppose he just wants to sleep into oblivion."

"Why are you so worried about him?" Ron snapped.

"Whoa," Harry put up his hands, "Jealousy?"

Ron slammed his hand down on the table and pushed himself up to walk out of the room. He made as much noise going up the steps as he had coming down them.

Harry sighed and turned towards the cupboards. His headache had reached a slightly less painful end of the spectrum and he was seriously considering making some tea. Maybe it'd wake Draco up a bit.

One loud whistling kettle later he sat down on the coffee table, carrying two mugs. He set his own down beside him. "Draco?" He asked softly, "I made some tea, would you like some?"

Draco's arms, laid out by his sides, slid underneath him to push himself up. He nodded, his eyes still struggling against the light as he turned to sit normally on the sofa.

"I didn't add anything to it," Harry warned before Draco took the cup.

"Thank you," Draco said sleepily before taking a small sip.

"How are you feeling, apart from the tiredness?" Harry asked, picking back up his own drink.

"Brilliant," he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, whatever they put in us sure doesn't play nice," Harry stated.

Draco nodded wordlessly and the two sat in silence, drinking their tea in lazy, flue like manors. "What did they put in us?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry shook his head, "I know just as much as you do. Well, maybe something about a venom."

"Venom? I thought this was a disease," Draco pondered, staring down at his cup.

"It's both then," Harry offered sounding unsure. "Odd what kind of disease spreads through a venom?"

"You don't suppose it's some kind of flesh eating thing from snakes do you?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Where did you get that idea?"

Draco shrugged and sipped his tea, "Don't know."

Harry tapped his thumbs against his mug mulling over the possibilities. "They said this was rare, right?"

"Yes," Draco agreed.

"And that it doesn't really kill you outright necessarily," Harry went on, "and the symptoms… they don't seem at all horrible. In fact I'm surprised they aren't using this as some kind of cure. There must be a reason. Therianthropy…?" He was merely thinking out loud by this point, nearly forgotten Draco was even in the room.

"Egyptian gods were theriocephalous," Draco said dryly between drinks, staring at the wall. "Had the heads of animals."

"Great, so we're all going to sprout jackal heads?"

Draco snorted at the thought and laughed. It took Harry a second to realize the ridiculousness of his own statement and joined him. With soft sighs they smiled at each other. Draco's eyes fell down to his mug and Harry's smile softened. He eventually looked down at his own. He sighed again, wondering what he was doing.

He coughed a little awkwardly, "Maybe they've infected us with the venom of your crazy aunt?"

"Oh, she would be all too happy to know she could cause this much pain," Draco added humorously.

"So you are in pain then?"

Draco nodded, "I haven't felt this ill since I caught the kissing sickness from my friend."

"Do you have any friends you haven't dated?" Harry asked in good nature. He had come to notice the common theme in Draco's stories.

Draco thought on it before answering, "One. Pansy."

That still left Harry out on a limb. Draco didn't date her because she is a girl or did he not date her because he just didn't?

"I've never dated a friend," Harry shared, "I think it'd be too weird. Not to mention how much it'd hurt if you broke up."

Draco paused, eyes falling elsewhere before looking back at Harry, "I don't remember it hurting. Then again I was almost always the one pulling the plug."

"Draco Malfoy the heart breaker," Harry raised his mug.

"Harry Potter the… sensitive," he smiled behind his own.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed a little, "I suppose it is true."

"Thus the reason why you beat women off with a stick," Draco smiled.

"And men," Harry added nonchalantly.

Draco's face fell, his happy mood crashing to the floor like a fragile vase from a ten story window, "You're serious?"

Harry nodded with a small shrug, "You'd be surprised, just sitting in a bar how many come up to me. It must be written across my ass or something."

"What?" Draco asked skeptically.

"I'm bi technically, though I prefer not to call it that. I don't know how else to explain it. I guess in my opinion sexuality should be an open ended question," he explained.

Draco shifted a little uncomfortably for a few seconds before sliding forward and standing, "I think I'm just going to turn in. Goodnight."

Harry remained on the coffee table, dumbfounded. Maybe Draco wasn't gay at all. Maybe he had just made a straight man very uncomfortable. Which he didn't understand why, it wasn't like he was coming on to him… too strongly.

He sighed and walked back to the kitchen to rinse out his mug and put it back in the cupboard. He climbed the metal staircase and stopped at Ron's door.

The redhead was picking up the mess he had made. Harry noted the state of the door across the hall, closed, and leaned on Ron's doorframe. "Hey, need help?"

Ron looked up, "No."

Harry nodded, "My headache's getting bad again, I'm heading to bed."

Ron's eyes narrowed in question, "Okay…?"

Harry uncrossed his arms and stepped further into the room. His voice dropped low and he nodded his head in the direction of Draco's room, "I told him."

Ron shook his head, "I'm going to need more."

"You know, free love, all that jazz," Harry mocked.

"Oh," Ron looked past him, then back again, "And?"

Harry held out his arms, "He just said he was going to bed."

"Huh, you don't suppose it was an invitation do you?"

"No," Harry shook his head.

"Odd," Ron looked over at his clothes on the floor. "Wait," he snapped back to Harry, "does this mean you want something with him then?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know. I mean he's not all that bad looking is he?"

Ron seemed to take a moment to think about it, "Eh, he's a little too feminine for my tastes."

Harry sighed, looking over his shoulder, "It'll be awkward now won't it?"

"He'll probably just pretend you never said anything," Ron offered.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Well, goodnight."

"Night, mate," Ron offered a smile before Harry left the room.

Indeed Draco did act like nothing was new and Harry didn't really test him either. His headache had left and with it went his newfound eyesight. So he was back to his glasses. Ron seemed a lot calmer whereas Draco much more anxious.

He would pace the length of the living room, sometimes biting his nails.

Harry sat down at the table with Ron, having their morning coffee and Draco would walk in, do a circle and walk back out.

On the third time Harry turned in his chair, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just…- Fine," he answered and left again.

"We're all going bonkers," Ron pointed.

"Speak for yourself," Harry corrected, "I feel as fit as a fucking fiddle."

"Really?" Ron challenged, "You seem a little frustrated."

"Whatever," Harry sighed, "I'm going to go shower."

On his way to the stairs Harry noticed Draco sitting on the couch, his foot bouncing and knuckle between his teeth. Maybe Ron was right- they were bonkers.

Harry closed the bathroom door behind him. It was a small room, stocked with only the necessities, ugly tiled wall, single standing shower.

He hung a towel on the rack and stepped into the frosted cubical after his clothes were on the floor. He tilted his head back into the spray of warm water wishing for shampoo but they were allowed none. Harry assumed it had something to do with the perfume. Which came to the thought of why they weren't allowed to have it. The heightened senses or the risk of other participants being allergic?

Harry heard the door open and knew it was Ron. They had gotten so comfortable with each other that it didn't really matter anymore.

"Hey, so other than the grumpiness, you feeling any different?" Ron asked.

"A little, I can't really place it though. Damn I wish they gave us soap," Harry shared.

Ron laughed, "I know."

Harry heard him brushing his teeth through the running water and waited until talking again, "At least there's hot water."

He heard Ron spit, "Yeah."

Harry kept running his fingers through his hair, hoping to get the sense of clean. "How are you feeling?"

The room was quiet and he wonder if maybe Ron had left.

"Honestly," Ron laughed a little, it sounded forced. It was odd how Harry could pick up on that. Maybe it was just because they'd known each other so long.

Harry kept waiting for him to continue. He turned towards the spray of water to attempt to wash his face. The shower door opened and Ron's hands touched his sides.

Harry sighed. It wasn't as odd as it seemed. He and Ron had a kind of murky relationship. It started awhile ago at a New Years Eve party. They were both half sloshed and lonely. It wasn't a big deal either, there was noting romantically there and it would stop when one or both were in a relationship, it was sort of an understanding they had reached.

"Horny as hell," Ron finally answered the question.

"I got that," Harry laughed lightly.

"So, uh, is this alright?" Ron asked kissing his neck.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yeah. It's not like I can say no now that you're already here."

"That's what I was banking on," Ron smiled, his hands slid down to Harry's hips, his chest against his back, "Damn you smell good."

Harry assumed it was only due to a heightened sense of smell. Just like he assumed his sudden need to comply came from the same thing. The feeling he couldn't place earlier, it hadn't been sexual but now that Ron was touching him it suddenly was.

He leaned back against him. Ron's arms wrapped around him, one hand sliding down over Harry's stomach. His fingers seeking out and then curling around the beginnings of a erection. Harry moaned and let his head fall back onto Ron's shoulder while Ron buried his face into his own.

Harry's lower back curled, hips sliding back into Ron's, drawing a shaky gasp. His teeth nipped at Harry's wet skin, thumb rolling teasingly over the tip. Harry groaned and reached back to pull Ron's barely wet hair. He turned his head to press his lips to his ear, "Just fuck me already."

Ron growled and bought his hand that had been touching Harry's chest to his shoulders to shove his torso forward. Harry braced the wall, dipping his head under the spray of water. It cascaded down his back, between their bodies, and over their thighs. He watched Ron's hand continue to stroke him while his other hand was threateningly close to stimulating another part of his body.

"You had a girlfriend last, right?" Ron asked, a tone of pleasure in his voice.

Before Harry could even voice a response Ron's fingers were inside him. He arched and groaned, that in itself answering Ron's question.

It was almost as if the whole thing had just been a sign of dominance and Harry just handed it to him on a silver platter. In fact that was the feeling, complete submission, passive compliance, that was all he wanted to do, whatever someone told him to, and it felt so good.

"Ron," he panted, spreading his legs further apart. It didn't even matter that Ron had stopped stroking him to hold his hip. He shivered and leaned forward farther, bending his arms, folding them to rest his forehead on them in the most inviting position he could get in, given the limited space.

Ron wasn't difficult to convince fortunately. He withdrew his fingers and put himself at Harry's entrance. The brunette chewed on his bottom lip in waiting, taking a few breaths to try and relax. His composure broke with a long hiss as Ron pushed in. His arms unfolded and pushed against the wall. The water helped but it was just water and it had been awhile. "Damn, be nicer-" his reprimand was cut short with a hard gasp when Ron buried himself completely inside Harry's body. Harry tensed and shivered before finding his breath again, "-about it."

Ron leaned forward through the water to put his chest to Harry's back again, one hand joining Harry's on the wall and the other wrapping around Harry's waist. "It's like a bandage." He chuckled breathlessly against his neck before kissing it again.

"It's-" Harry shuddered, "nothing like a bandage." He moaned lowly, pushing his hips back, "move."

Ron did. He slowly pulled out and then thrust forward, angling for the perfect spot. That was what this was about anyway, speed. It was intended to be a quick round in the shower, otherwise he might of made Harry sweat a bit.

Harry, back bent pleasantly, moaned loudly, "There."

Ron groaned, biting the shoulder that hadn't been claimed already, a bit rougher this time. His thrusts were hard and fast, aiming for Harry's prostate, maybe missing a few times, not that it mattered anymore. His hand was back between his legs.

It was just as it was intended to be, a quick fuck in the shower that left them panting and boneless. It was meaningless, no strings attached sex, but it reopened the door they had closed a month ago.

Harry could feel it. This wasn't going to be the last time Ron asked for this, but the door swung both ways. If Ron asked for sex and got it without a question in return, Harry could do the same.

So their deal was reinstated.

Over the next couple of days Draco's teething, as Ron liked to call it, got worse. They would catch him chewing on objects. It would start as a nibble on the corner then turn to full on teething. It was strange to watch; Harry imagined Draco felt just as strange when he was caught doing it. So him and Ron rarely stopped him. It was just too much not to say something when you see a bloke chewing on a book.

He didn't really talk much anymore either. He stayed quietly to himself, despite Harry's best effort to make conversation. Harry felt a little guilty, that's why he tried so hard. Now that he was sleeping with Ron again it felt like he was leaving Draco out, not that he much understood why. It wasn't like Draco wanted a relationship. He made that perfectly clear with how uncomfortable he was around him.

Harry sighed and set down his book. He couldn't concentrate. He uncrossed his legs and climbed off his bed to venture to Ron's room.

Ron was sitting against his headboard staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. "Bored?" Harry asked.

Ron looked up at him, "Yes. I've read all my magazines."

Harry hummed as though thinking of a way to cure Ron's boredom, "I was going to go make lunch but…"

"But?"

Harry smiled and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

He briefly thought of Draco, off someplace chewing on something that probably wasn't in his best interest. Though it seemed Harry's concentration only stretched as far as that before bouncing back to Ron, above him and whispering hotly against his ear. Kissing his skin, never his lips, rubbing their erections together until they both came.

Harry laughed lightly, stretching until he was holding the headboard. Ron sighed contently and slid off the bed to redress. Harry smiled and folded his arms behind his head, "That was nice."

Ron threw Harry's pants at him, "It was, now I'm hungry."

Harry rolled his eyes and forced himself up, "Food and sex, you're predictable."

Ron shrugged and slid on his shirt, "You mentioned lunch."

"That I did," Harry slid on his pants, pulling at them to adjust his boxer then reached for his shirt.

Ron walked out of the room, knowing that Draco wasn't upstairs. In fact he was sitting on the couch, biting his nails. It was a nice change from the radial phone wire. Ron fell onto the opposite end of the sofa.

It took just a second to realize he was being stared at. He turned to the blond, "What?"

Before he got his answer Draco was suddenly right beside him, "You smell like sex."

Ron blanched slightly. He didn't know if Harry wanted Draco knowing what they were up to. While he was off in this thought Draco took it upon himself to bury his face in Ron's neck and bit him in a testing manor. "Hey!" Ron grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back. "Let's get one thing straight, I'm not your-" He was cut off by lips on his.

Draco kissed him hard, desperate even. He welcomed himself to Ron's lap and Ron didn't object. Draco wasn't a bad kisser and he certainly wasn't horrible looking, and he wasn't at all tired out from what he and Harry had been doing not ten minutes ago.

Actually, Ron wasn't at all satisfied. He wasn't like Harry, content with just foreplay. He didn't see the point of it without a woman involved. Don't be mistaken, just because he wasn't a fan didn't mean he was bad at it, at least he thought so, he hadn't received a complaint yet. Also, judging by the sounds of things Draco was fine without it as well.

Draco's hips slid forward, grinding against Ron's. The heavy kiss ended with a pair of groans. Draco pulled off his shirt letting it fall carelessly before catching Ron's lips again.

Harry's trip downstairs abruptly stopped. He looked at the scene on the couch shell shocked. They looked like a pair of animals ripping at each other more than anything. He shook his head, turned his eyes downward, and continued on to the kitchen quickly.

He felt a little hurt if he was to be honest with himself. Though he didn't understand why. He had no claim to Ron and he certainly had none to Draco.

He could still hear them. Moans he knew were Ron's and ones he was forced to assume as Draco's.

Harry didn't know what to do. He had confined himself to the kitchen. Surely he couldn't just walk back up the stairs as easily as he had come down them. So he turned to the fridge. What could he do? He had come down to make lunch, so he would make lunch.

At the very least this meant that if Draco wasn't gay, he wasn't against the notion. Harry understood what this really meant though. Ron had no feelings for Draco just as Harry figured Draco had no feelings for Ron. Between them now opened the same door that was between him and Ron.

Ron just confirmed it afterward. "What was I supposed to do? He just threw himself at me," Ron defended.

They were playing cards at the table. Draco was upstairs reading.

Harry sighed and continued looking at his hand instead of his friend.

"I think it was because he smelt you on me if you want to know what I think," Ron went on.

Harry still couldn't say anything. He was torn between trying not to be bothered and actually being bothered.

"It won't happen again, mate," Ron promised.

"But it will, Ron," Harry argued. "Don't you get that? You can't unsleep with someone."

"But I can not sleep with them again," Ron stated.

Harry shook his head, sighed again, and shrugged dismissively, "It's alright. He clearly didn't want me anyway." He played his hand, "Your turn."

"You're sure?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded.

"As far as I can see I don't know why we can't keep it up either. I mean with the- whatever this is, happening to us- you can come to me whenever you need."

Harry laughed a little, "Thanks, Ron."


End file.
